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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732902">The Whispering Wind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/0bsessedandindistress/pseuds/0bsessedandindistress'>0bsessedandindistress</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Depressed Dean Winchester, Djinnverse (Supernatural), Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 15, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:49:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26732902</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/0bsessedandindistress/pseuds/0bsessedandindistress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Dean does it, it’s in a motel room on the first floor. The idea came to him when he found the man at the bar, tattoos swirled around his arms. He had begged the man to give him a chance, to let him try it just once.</p><p>Soon they don’t even use the motel anymore, just meet at abandoned warehouses in the forgotten parts of town.</p><p>He has to do this. The djinn poison is the only way to see Cas any more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <a href="https://50shadesofsubtext.tumblr.com/post/629072932921032704/the-first-time-dean-does-it-its-in-chicago-al">Link to the inspiration post</a>
</p><p>  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/45lFHDeJjpHuGatACnY3Lj?si=quSGtLzfS2iQfCfH5bpaVQ">Link to "Dean's top 13 Zepp traxx" as used in this fic</a></p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>There's a lady who's sure<br/>All that glitters is gold<br/>And she's buying a stairway to Heaven<br/>When she gets there she knows<br/>If the stores are all closed<br/>With a word she can get what she came for<i></i></i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a Thursday afternoon, and Dean is sitting at the bar outside of Lebanon for the third time that week. Last month, he would have had ten unread messages from Sam lighting up his phone. But right now Sammy isn’t even in Kansas, he’s down in Texas on a rugaru case that Dean would normally be on. Sam didn’t even invite Dean on this one though. Turns out that a month and a half of “no” is enough to make a guy take a hint. Dean figures he should care that Sam is running solo, but he decides that if anyone ought to worry, it’s the rugaru who has a Winchester on its tail.<br/>
<br/>
Dean knows deep down that he’s still worried, but he can’t find it in himself to care anymore. Frankly, he can’t find it in himself to do anything anymore. Hunting helped for about a week, until the anger could no longer be quieted by chopping something’s head off. Punching something didn’t seem to help either, as Dean learned when he almost broke his fist on the concrete wall of the bunker. He’s never been one to wallow in self-pity, so he finds himself again and again at the grungy bar ten miles from the bunker, drowning his anger in a bottle and refusing to acknowledge the gut-wrenching sorrow that he’s trying to drown along with it. He’ll do anything to keep that down, because he doesn’t know what he would do if he didn’t.<br/>
<br/>
Well, technically he does. He knows that it’ll consume him, that he’ll beg, plead, bargain with anything powerful enough to take it away, to fix the reason he has a gaping hole in his chest. But he’s been there, done that. And turns out even pissing off every being he knows isn’t enough to bring Cas back.<br/>
<br/>
Dean doesn’t know what happened when Cas was taken into the Empty. All he knows is that for once, no deal or spell or messed up bargain can get him back out. Dean would know, because he tried it all back in week one, before the hunting spree and the concrete walls and the drinking. And son of a bitch, what’s the point of saving the world over and over again if you can’t even get one stupid favor out of it.<br/>
<br/>
“Ready for a refill hun?” Jamie asked, choosing to ignore the fact that at 3 PM she had already asked Dean that question 4 times. Jamie always worked weekday afternoons, and she and Dean had developed a nice routine of minding their own business.<br/>
<br/>
Dean pushed his glass forward. “Thanks Jamie,” he acknowledged as she poured more whiskey over the ice that hadn’t yet melted from his last refill. Dean turned his attention back to his glass, tuning out the handful of people in the bar with the sight of dark liquor and the background sound of a Lynyrd Skynyrd song. That was another part of him and Jamie’s routine. On the good days they made some small talk, and one day wandered into the realm of music. Ever since then, Dean always walked into the bar to the sound of the local classic rock radio station playing over the bar speakers. Today was not one of those good days though.<br/>
<br/>
Dean had accidentally run into some business men heading off to work when he rolled through the local gas station on the way back into the bunker that morning. He tried to forget how much a dark suit and blue tie had hurt to look at.<br/>
<br/>
Forcing himself back to the whiskey in front of him, Dean glanced up at the bar mirror. He put great effort into ignoring how much he looked like shit. His eyes had deep bags under them, no doubt a result of the restless 3 hours of sleep he tended to get. His face was even starting to show changes, slightly hollowed from the lack of food and creased from the frown that he consistently held there. He was happy to turn his attention away from himself as he glanced at the other patrons at the bar. There were only three others; Chris and Jake were weekday regulars content with watching baseball reruns on the TV, and Jamie’s roommate Missy was seated at a high table, skimming paper as she waited for Jamie to get off at 4.<br/>
<br/>
The fourth drinker was a new one though. Dean hadn’t noticed when he came in, but looked him over now. He had a short buzz cut, bleached a dingy rust color instead of whatever color it was supposed to be. Medium skin, and just the right build that it was impossible to tell whether or not he’d be any challenge of a fight. Dean’s glance began to fall away when he noticed the beer on the bar in front of him, held by an intricately tattooed set of hands. The tattoos wound gracefully, disappearing into the man’s jacket sleeve. Dean would know those tattoos anywhere; they were burned into his mind from all the times he’d found someone strung up to a blood bag.<br/>
<br/>
He glanced up, reassessing. Probably wouldn’t be a hard fight, if he even decided to spare the energy for it. Or he could just go back to his whiskey and ignore the world like he’d been doing for the past month. He turned his attention back to his drink. On the way he managed to glance once more in the mirror across from him. And that one glance was enough to motivate his self-destructive mind to create the first idea he’d had in weeks. He downed the drink and slapped a $20 on the bar, turning to leave without saying goodbye.<br/>
<br/>
*	*	*	*	*<br/>
<br/>
Dean waited outside the motel as the light turned off. His head was clear despite the lingering warmth of whiskey, and he tucked the silver knife into his waistband before getting out of the Impala. The man turned to lock the room behind him as Dean slammed him back against the door.<br/>
<br/>
“I know who you are” mumbled the man as his face pressed against the door.<br/>
<br/>
“Then you should know that opening that door back up and letting me in is you best chance of survival” Dean growled. The man’s eyes flickered to his peripheral, trying to glance at Dean, before he pushed the door open into the motel room. The second the door was open, Dean shoved hard, locking the door behind him. “Alright rusty, we can do this the easy way or the hard” he directed to the djinn in front of him.<br/>
<br/>
“If you’re going to kill me just get it over with although,” he said as he looked Dean up and down before sitting on the bed, “in all honesty I’m surprised you can even stand after the drinks you downed back at the bar.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh this isn’t about killing you, at least not yet” Dean started, as he moved forward to lean on the tv stand. “I have a proposition to make you.” The man’s quiet encouraged Dean to continue. “You're going to zap me into one of your little dream worlds.”<br/>
<br/>
“And why would I do that?” the djinn interrupted.<br/>
<br/>
“Well first of all, to stop a silver blade covered in lambs blood from taking the scenic route through your chest” Dean said with an expression between a smirk and sneer. “And second, because I got something I need to do, and I need your juice to do it.” Yea he probably shouldn’t be this upfront with a plan, but Dean wasn’t too scared of a dude with rusty hair who he could kill in 5 seconds flat. The man’s eyes roamed down to where Dean’s hand hovered near his waistband, and with a slight nod of acknowledgment, back upwards to Dean’s face.<br/>
<br/>
“Even if I wanted to help, I ain’t got the juice to do it” he replied as he leaned back onto his arms. “Our powers are fueled by energy, energy we get from blood like what’s pumping in those pretty veins of yours,” as he motioned with his head towards Dean. “Now see me? I’m off that little pesk of a drug right now, and so that ‘juice’ you want just ain’t gonna show.” 
Dean moved forward, pulling the knife out. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”<br/>
<br/>
“It means, that there’s a reason the first time I popped up on your radar was in that grimy bar back there.” He rushed as his hands flew open in a defensive pose.<br/>
<br/>
“You drink animal blood.” It was more of a statement than a question.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh look at that, turns out brawn’s got some brains after all.” Dean moved his weight to push himself up from the tv stand “Ok ok I get it you don’t like the dynamic duo nicknames anymore” the man rushed as he held his hands up. “But I’ll be real Winchester, like I said I know who you are, and that means that I know why you want a little slice of delusion served up on a glowing blue platter. So I’ll cut you a deal.” Dean’s narrowed eyes squinted even more for a moment.<br/>
<br/>
“Funny rusty, seems like since I’m the one with the knife, I’ll be the one cutting the deals” The man shook his hands slightly, emphasizing the defensive pose he still held.<br/>
<br/>
“Listen, if you really want my help, I’m gonna need some of the good stuff.” The djinn’s eyes travelled up and down Dean again, “Lucky for you, your got about 12 pints of it flowing through that warm meat suit of yours” gesturing towards Dean with his still open hands. “Since my batteries are drained, I’ll need at least a pint to even get you a glance through the door.” He raised his eyebrows at Dean, daring the man to give his answer.<br/>
<br/>
“You get a pint, and you stay here until I wake up” Dean countered. “Not that it matters if you try to run, but it would make it a hell a lot easier if I didn’t have to track you across state lines when I wake up.” The man’s cocky exterior wavered, he knew that Dean Winchester was not a man you wanted on your tail.<br/>
<br/>
“So what I’m hearing here, is either I help you and risk you killing me when you wake up, or run now and guarantee you killing me if you find me.”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh rusty” Dean smirked, “it’s not an if, but a when.” His eyes sparkled as he dared the man to run.<br/>
<br/>
*	*	*	*	*<br/>
<br/>
Dean was now the one sitting, leaning back in the desk chair as the djinn pulled the blinds closed. He hooked the IV line into Dean’s arm, watching as the blood began to flow out of it and into the glass he held.<br/>
<br/>
“I can’t guarantee this will even work, I haven’t juiced up in decades” the djinn said as his eyes watched the drip of blood. Dean sat silent, the smell of iron beginning to penetrate the air. He continued to stare at the wall as the man beside him raised the glass to his lips for the first taste. After close to a glass, his tattoos started to grow, reaching past the collar of his shirt and onto his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled, and turned to dean. “Showtime” he said, as he reached a blue hand towards Dean’s arm, “see you on the other side.” Dean’s world went black.<br/>
<br/>
He woke up groggy, eye’s connecting with the yellow-brown ceiling of his room at the bunker. Shooting out of bed, he glanced around. “Dammit.” He didn’t remember getting back to the bunker, but figured it probably had something to do with Sammy being a fucking helicopter parent. Groaning, he left his room, heading for the smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen. Tuning into the doorway, Dean nearly fell down the couple stairs into the room. There, back turned, was the tan trench coat that had been hanging in Dean’s closet for the past two months. Except now it was filled out across the shoulders of its dark-haired owner.<br/>
<br/>
He turned, probably noticing the sound of Dean almost smacking himself off the concrete. “Hello Dean.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>There's a sign on the wall<br/>
But she wants to be sure<br/>
'Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings<br/>
In a tree by the brook<br/>
There's a songbird who sings<br/>
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiving<br/>
<i></i></i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hello Dean.” Castiel said.<br/>
<br/>
Dean wasn’t sure what face he was making, but it was enough for Cas to quirk an eyebrow at him. “There’s extra coffee in the pot” he continued as he appraised Dean.<br/>
<br/>
“Cas,” Dean started, before moving a step across the kitchen. Instinct kicked in, and he moved forward again, pulling Cas into a hug. “It’s good to see you man,” he said into the tan trench coat he was wrapped around.<br/>
<br/>
“Um yes Dean it’s good to see you as well.” Cas tentatively returned the hug with a pat on Dean’s back. “Is everything ok?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yea man,” he clapped Cas on the back as he pulled away, “everything’s great.” He smiled at Cas with a dazzle which he was sure only further confused the man. But as Dean turned to get some coffee, he realized that he didn’t give a shit. That damn djinn had actually pulled it off.<br/>
<br/>
He sat across from Cas who had resumed his analyzation of the situation. “Dean are you sure you’re alright? Something seems off.” Dean only smirked at Cas’s eyes creased with a tinge of worry.<br/>
<br/>
“Never better sunshine.”<br/>
<br/>
*	*	*	*	*<br/>
<br/>
Dean was perfectly content to sit forever at that table sipping coffee.<br/>
<br/>
“By the time I got here they had already left. I was actually surprised to see that you didn’t go with them.”<br/>
<br/>
“What?” Dean asked, blinking out the stupor caused by the very much alive Castiel sitting a few feet in front of him. “They went where again?”<br/>
<br/>
“To help Eileen with a nest in Kansas City… did you not talk to them before they left?” Cas narrowed his eyes slightly as he spoke.<br/>
<br/>
“Uh yea I’m sure I did. Probably just had too much to drink last night when they told me.” Dean played off as he tried to figure out all the details he had missed while staring at Cas like an idiot.<br/>
Cas lost the tension in his eyes as he nodded. “Yes I suppose that is an explanation. I still forget how alcohol tends to impair human recollection.” Dean chuckled. “Well it does actually help me that you’re here. I found a case I could use your help with.”<br/>
<br/>
“Ok let’s hear it.” Dean said. He hadn’t since… well for a few months now. Good news is that it’s like riding a bike from what he remembers after his time with Lisa and Ben. Plus, worst that happens is he dies and wakes up. That would suck ass but at least he wouldn’t actually be dead. As Dean debated whether dying or waking up would suck more ass, Cas pulled out his phone and handed it to Dean.<br/>
<br/>
An <i>Ontonagon Herald<i></i></i> article was pulled up, “State Police Close Baraga State Forest After Fifth Missing Person Reported.” Dean looked up at Cas.<br/>
<br/>
“Alright works for me but if we’re going we’d better leave now, Michigan sure as hell ain’t close, even with my driving.” Dean looked at Cas as they both stayed firmly seated at the table. It took a moment for Dean to realize that they were waiting for him to get ready, seeing as Cas didn’t exactly need to pack a bag. It was at that same moment that Dean realized he didn’t want to get up from the table. He looked down at the remains of his coffee. He’d forgotten how nice it was to do something as simple as sitting and having coffee with Cas. He found that part of him was scared to move, that if he got up now, that reality would set back in, and Dean would be sitting at an empty table.<br/>
<br/>
“Dean, are you sure everything is alright?” Instead of worry, Cas was doing his best impression of a puppy, eyebrows raised as if he already knew the answer to what he was asking.<br/>
<br/>
Dean scoffed as he stood a bit too quickly, “Of course I’m fine Cas.” As he entered his room and threw random clothes and guns into the duffel, Dean focused on anything except the look Cas had given him as he walked out of the kitchen. Even in a dream the angel could see right through him.<br/>
<br/>
*	*	*	*	*<br/>
<br/>
They were merging onto I-80 when Dean realized how quiet the car was. He glanced at the radio: <i>10:23 AM<i></i></i>. Too early for this shit, Dean thought.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey man, throw in a tape or something or else this is gonna be a long 12 hours.” Dean threw a glance over to Cas siting in the passenger seat. “Tapes should be in the glovebox still.”<br/>
<br/>
“It’s 14 hours to Baraga.” Cas relied monotonically as Dean returned his view to the road, hearing rustling as Cas moved around looking for the music.<br/>
<br/>
“Not with my driving it’s not” Dean smirked over at Cas just as the angel pushed a tape into the radio. The opening chords of “Ramble On” came flowing through the speakers. Dean nodded his head along to the chords. “Good choice man, which mix did you decide on?”<br/>
<br/>
“The one you gave me.” Cas replied in his usual indiscernible tone. It’s lucky that the roads were long cleared of rush hour, or else Dean would’ve caused an accident with how his hands jerked to the right, following the more aggressive swing of his head towards Cas. It wasn't until the first verse had started that Dean realized he had been staring. He turned back to the road, choosing to alternate his attention between the highway and Cas as he shot glances at both.<br/>
<br/>
“What you get tired of it already and drop it in here?” Dean snarked, realizing the words tinged with more hurt then he had intended to let on. In that second, he considered whether the hours he spent on that stupid tape were worth it.<br/>
<br/>
“Of course not. I keep it with me.”<br/>
<br/>
Dean had to physically resist the jerk of his head. He settled for a longer-than-necessary glance. Castiel had finally turned his head away from the windshield and was looking at Dean. “I enjoy the tape. And it’s the only gift I’ve ever been given.” Cas fondly shifted his attention to the stereo playing the tape as Dean forced his attention back to I-80. “Especially since I lost my wings, I do enjoy having a piece of comfort with me when I’m forced to drive around.”<br/>
<br/>
Dean moved his hand to rub the back of his neck. “Well damn man, glad I could be of help then I guess.” Cas looked at him once more, before returning his gaze to the front windshield.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re always of help.” Cas finally replied. Yea, the tape was definitely worth the hours. The impala sped east as the chorus began.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Ramble on<br/>
<br/>
And now's the time, the time is now<i></i></i><br/>
<br/>
Dean shot up from when his head had fallen onto the desk. His breathing was heavy as a shot of adrenaline put him on edge.<br/>
<br/>
“Welcome back to the land of the living my friend.” Dean snapped his head over to where the djinn was lounging on the motel couch.<br/>
<br/>
“I’m not your friend.” Dean shot back as the djinn yet again opened his hands defensively.<br/>
<br/>
“Jeez grumpy, I thought your little trip to Disney land would’ve improved your mood” the djinn stated as he eased up from the couch, beginning to grab the bag from beside the bed. “I mean, I know my little shoot up did wonders for me. Let me tell you, first go back is truly a magical experience.”<br/>
<br/>
“Can it rusty” said Dean as he pulled himself out of the chair to lean against the desk. He could feel his head light and muscles slightly weak from the loss of blood. He looked down at his arm to find a bandage over the IV interstation site. He looked up at the djinn. “You’d better not hit again, or else I will be coming after you. Ugly head like yours can’t be too hard to find.”<br/>
The djinn practically rolled his eyes as he headed for the door. “Oh yes you’re so welcome for not bleeding you dry like any rational creature, glad to be of assistance to the man that’ll probably kill me one day.” He rolled his eyes as he glanced back at Dean. He was halfway out the door before he paused. Not turning around, the djinn spoke back to Dean. “By the way, name’s Kari. If your gonna hunt me down might as well know it, because if I hear you call me rusty one more time I swear I’ll stab myself and save you the trouble.”<br/>
<br/>
*	*	*	*	*<br/>
<br/>
Dean had no trouble driving back to the bunker. His alcohol had long worn off, and a bit of head spinning from lost blood wasn’t anything compared to the weeks he’d spent drunk out of his mind. In fact, this was the first time in a month he hadn’t stumbled in drunk. Although he figured his new coping mechanism wasn’t much better.<br/>
<br/>
Dean swiped some chips from the pantry before heavily dropping onto his bed. It wasn’t until he was staring up at the yellow-brown ceiling that Dean realized he still hadn’t said goodbye to Cas.<br/>
<br/>
Of course that had been his original plan. Go see him, say what he needed to say. And maybe find some of the peace or closure or whatever the fuck had Sammy and Jack up and going these days. But seeing Cas, an alive Cas and not a corpse or a nightmare, had thrown that thought right out the window. He hadn’t even thought about saying goodbye, he only had thought about how long he was going to be able to stay. Normally he’d be kicking himself. But right now, Dean realized that he felt the best he had in a long time. He wouldn’t go so far as to call it happy, but at least it wasn’t the suffocating misery he was used to. With that in mind, he let himself drift off, hoping that maybe tonight, he’d dream of his new memories instead of his old nightmares.<br/>
<br/>
He woke up to the quiet of the bunker. The clock on his bedside read <i>11:03 AM<i></i></i>. Six hours of sleep. Not bad. Definitely better than the 2-4 he’d been averaging.  Dean stumbled out into the kitchen to make coffee. Add caffeine addiction to the healthy list of things he’s got going on. It wasn’t until he turned to sit down that he realized.<br/>
<br/>
Dean just stared at the empty table, steaming mug in hand. After what felt like minutes, he turned and walked out, deciding to take up post by the laptop in the library instead. He half skimmed through the local news before totally accidentally hacking into the motel security cameras from the night before.<br/>
<br/>
He watched as he disappeared from the view of the camera as he slammed rusty-Kari his mind corrected, into the door. A glance at the time read 00:48.<br/>
<br/>
He sped forward through the footage, until at 04:14 Kari finally walked out the door. He headed for a shitty dodge car in the parking lot, one that was rusted out along the front bumper and had faded patches of paint.<br/>
It took Dean all of two hours to find the piece of shit parked in another motel lot on the north side of Tulsa, OK. He narrowed his eyes at the cam footage, time stamp reading 11:31. The clock in the bunker read 2 PM. Dean shook his head and shut the laptop. He wasn’t going to be that stupid.<br/>
<br/>
He wasn’t. He swears. Until he found himself back in the kitchen with a beer in his hand, staring at that stupid table. “Son of a bitch” Dean muttered under his breath. A quick look at his phone confirmed that he had zero new messages. Nothing ground-shattering going on.<br/>
<br/>
And that is how he, Dean Winchester, certified fucking idiot, found himself parked in the corner of a north Tulsa motel parking lot a short four and a half hours later. He really should get an award for his driving.<br/>
<br/>
A tapping at his passenger window kicked Dean’s train of thought to the curb. “You know if you wanted a second date you could’ve just asked.” Kari stood, hand raised against the window. Dean scowled, climbing out of the Impala.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh well I am a romantic, big fan of the element of surprise when cleaning up my messes” Dean retorted as he reached around to the knife fastened at his back.<br/>
<br/>
Kari watched his hand move, clearly feeling bolder than their earlier interaction. “Oh well shucks you know that ain’t the truth now don’t you Dean-o.” He met Dean’s eyes as his hand clasped around the hilt of the knife. “You know as well as I do that you’re here for another hit of that warm and glow-y blue stuff.” He paused for a second as he pulled away from the Impala, positioning himself closer to the passenger front tire as he inched around to the front of the car. “You can’t fool me, I know the magic, and I know damn well when someone’s hooked as hell. I gotta say Dean-o, I’m not a bit surprised to see you.” Dean responded by narrowing his eyes and setting his jaw, even as his hand released his grip on the knife. “Especially after I made it so easy to follow me here, did you like the ride by the way? Picked it up at a scrapyard the other week and am still a bit sentimental towards it.”<br/>
<br/>
“You know I really didn’t show up for a monologue” Dean interrupted before Kari dive any further into his sentiments.<br/>
<br/>
“Oh believe me I know,” Kari smirked, and then his smug look faded. “Why don’t we stop facing-off in the parking lot and head inside. It’s late, and plus, less witnesses inside. He winked at Dean as he turned his back and walked over to a first-floor room, opening the door and heading inside without looking back.<br/>
<br/>
Dean wasn’t sure what came over him. But after a minute, he walked around the Impala to follow Kari into the room, knife still at his back, but no longer clutched in his hand. The room was yet again unimpressive, a bed and a couch. Kari was on the other side of the bed, ruffling through his bag as he faced Dean. “Shut the door why don’t you, I personally prefer a bit of privacy for my extracurricular activities.” Dean narrowed his eyes yet again, locking the door as his hand snaked closer to the hilt of the knife.<br/>
<br/>
“You’re awfully bold for someone who’s about to get ganked.” Kari didn’t even look up from his bag.<br/>
<br/>
“Dean, Dean, you can lie to yourself all you want about why you’re here, and you can keep clutching that pretty silver knife like it’ll change the 6 hours you just drove to follow me here.” Kari finally looked up as he pulled the IV cord out of his bag. “You can lie to just about anyone Dean. But you can’t lie to me. I’ve seen all of desperation’s faces and forms over the years, and kid, you got it bad.” Dean didn’t even respond. He just glared. Kari only sighed.<br/>
<br/>
Narrowing his gaze, Dean glanced at the couch on the farside of the room. He hated it, but the stupid Djinn was right. He could feel the desperation rising the longer he looked at the faded tattoos on Kari’s arm. “What do I have to do for more time?” Dean finally said, glare turning to point at Kari, who smirked.<br/>
<br/>
“Time equals blood Dean-o, can only give one once I got the other.” Kari looked him up and down. “I can double last time.”<br/>
<br/>
“No” Dean said. “What’s the most you can take?” His head was spinning with thoughts. No useful ones of course. They were all focused on the one goal he normally kept buried in the back of his mind: seeing Cas again.<br/>
<br/>
Kari’s eyes narrowed as he appraised Dean. “Kid”<br/>
<br/>
“I ain’t a damn kid.”<br/>
<br/>
“You are to me,” Kari snipped, “kid.” He smirked and continued “Now if you’d shut up for a minute, I was about to tell you that I can’t safely take too much. I can’t read how much of the pint has replenished from last night. I can only take so much before your body stops fixing itself.”<br/>
<br/>
“And when’s that happen?” Dean interrupted, deciding that he wasn’t going to start listening to commands now after all these years.<br/>
<br/>
“About 40, 50 percent blood loss.” Kari looked Dean up and down again. “Most I could get away with is 5 pints,”<br/>
<br/>
“Do it.” Dean said without allowing himself the time to think too much.<br/>
<br/>
“Kid I –”<br/>
<br/>
“I said do it, or else I stab you and find another djinn around.”<br/>
<br/>
Kari only rolled his eyes. “Well be my guest and take a seat then.” Dean sat on the couch as Kari picked up the IV drop, grabbing the stack of cups from the minibar as he passed.<br/>
<br/>
As the smell of iron pierced the air for the second time in 24 hours, Kari looked up at Dean as his tattoos began to spread up his neck. “Just remember, I can’t guarantee the time you’ll get. The magic isn’t a perfect equation. With this much juice, you could feel anything from days to hours.”<br/>
<br/>
“Whatever,” Dean said. He didn’t care about the fucking technicalities. “Just send me in already.” Kari dropped his eyes to the filling glass, raising it to his lips, tattoos beginning to glow much earlier than last time. Kari looked significantly stronger, obviously still partially juiced from his last hit. For a second, Dean wondered if it was really the smartest to knock himself out in front of a rapidly strengthening djinn.<br/>
<br/>
As a blue hand reached towards his face Dean decided that he didn’t give a shit, and his world again dropped into black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>There's a feeling I get<br/>When I look to the west<br/>And my spirit is crying for leaving<br/>In my thoughts I have seen<br/>Rings of smoke through the trees<br/>And the voices of those who standing looking<i></i></i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>see ch 1 notes for the link to "Dean's top 13 Zepp Traxx"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean woke up to the sound of auto-reverse flipping a tape to its B side. He groggily began to open his eyes even as the hum of the Impala’s engine tried to put him back to sleep. The first thing he noticed was the darkness outside. The second was how slow the Impala was moving. He groaned as he pulled his face away from where it was plastered to the window, looking over at Cas just as he glanced over at Dean.</p>
<p>
“You might as well go back to sleep, we’re still an hour and a half out from Baraga.” Cas said as he returned his attention to the road like the responsible driver he was.</p>
<p>
Speaking of responsible, “It’s gonna take us longer than that if you don’t pick up the pace. You’re going the speed limit man.” Dean mumbled as a Welcome to Michigan sign was illuminated by the headlights. “Jesus Cas there’s no one on the road, you can go faster than 65 MPH.” He turned back to the radio as the tape deck finally started spewing out words. The lyrics to The Ocean started playing over the speakers. </p>
<p>
“No thank you, you drove fast enough for the both of us when you hit 110 crossing into Minnesota.” Dean would’ve given some smart-ass retort if he remembered Minnesota. He wondered for a moment just how far the dream would progress if he wasn’t around. </p>
<p>
“So you’re still rocking to that mixtape?” Dean commented. He’d made that tape along with most of the others in the Impala. Cas’s was the only one who’s B side started with <i>The Ocean</i>.</p>
<p>
Cas scoffed in annoyance, “if you don’t want to listen to it then I will change it Dean, I just had it on while you were asleep.” </p>
<p>
“No man, they’re my favorite songs of course I want to listen to them.” He paused and risked a glance at Cas who was still very responsibly focused on the road. “I just didn’t know you used it this much I guess.”</p>
<p>
“Well like I said, I enjoy it. Plus,” he started with a small smile, “music does seem to help pass the time on these long drives.” Dean nodded as Cas settled back into silence, seeming more interested in the road than in Dean. Accepting that they wouldn’t be having any late-night heart-to-hearts like he and Sam tended to do, Dean relaxed back into the cushion and allowed himself to be hypnotized by the scattered porch lights they passed as they drove up the highway.</p>
<p> 

*	*	*	*	*</p>
<p>
	
Dean walked out of the bp and turned down State Ave. The streetlight behind him, his shadow stretched long as he walked towards the Impala parked at the end of the peninsula. It was early fall and even though the air had yet to drop below 40, the breeze blowing off Keweenaw Bay was enough to put a harsh chill in the air. Luckily it was still plenty warm enough for Dean to crash in hotel Impala instead of coughing up the money for a motel. Besides, without Sam around there was no point in paying for a room only one person was gonna sleep in. </p>
<p>
He tossed his bag onto the hood as he sat down, the fading warmth of the engine helping to chase off the cold. With the streetlight far behind him the stars and nearing-full moon reflected off the calm deep water as the shallow waves pushed against the shore. Dean didn’t usually get the chance to sit and look at the stars, meaning that normally he would’ve been entrapped by the constellations pasted in the clear sky. Tonight though, the focus of his attention was the trench-coat clad angel sitting on the hood next to him. </p>
<p>
 “Do you know the constellations Dean?” Cas said in acknowledgment of the man sitting down next to him. </p>
<p>
“Yea here,” Dean passed the hot chocolate to Cas before pulling a hot sandwich and a pecan pie out of the bag, looking out above the dark water as he dug in. He took a bite before speaking, motioning with his sandwich across the sky. “My Dad taught us the basics in case we ever needed them. Like there’s Orion over to the southwest, and then we have the big dipper,” he pointed as he traced the constellation before moving, “and then we can follow the big dipper to the north star, and the little dipper.” He nodded his head, swallowing the food that he’d been mumbling around and looking back towards Cas. Cas didn’t reply at first, his elbows on his knees as both hands held his hot chocolate. </p>
<p>
As much as the sky lit up the bay, it cast a shallow light across Cas’s features, shadows forming as it hit the sharp features of the angel’s face. Last time he had seen Cas in this type of a lowlight, he had been laying on the ground, wings burnt across the ground below him. Then the stars had washed him out, emphasizing the fading color in his skin. Now it emphasized how alive he was, tanned skin flushed by the wind and cold, eyes reflecting the darkness around him. This was another moment that Dean could sit in forever. He would let Kari bleed him dry if it meant he could sit here in the cold and dark and watch Cas take in the night sky. </p>
<p>
“Scripture says that God created the stars on the fourth day.” Cas started as he continued to look upwards. “Which I suppose is true if you summarize the millennia of creation into seven days. I will admit it does make the story more alluring.” When Cas started talking Dean had quickly focused back on his sandwich in the hope of hiding his staring. Now he looked back at Cas with confusion as he chewed the giant bite he had taken. Cas glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “The sky you see isn’t even close to the original design. God had just thrown the stars into the heavens to shed some light on creation. The early animals were too young to see the sun, yet they were so afraid of the dark that he took pity on them.” </p>
<p>
“Cas are you trying to tell me that the stars are just a cosmic nightlight?” Dean mumbled around another bite. </p>
<p>
“Well yes, at first. After the sun was created God allowed Lamma to reconstruct the heavens so that they would give beauty to the darkness of the night.” He paused as he gazed back longingly at the sky. “She truly did turn them into something beautiful, although they were made even more so by the stories you came up with to explain her patterns.” He looked around before pointing north-east. “Those stars over there, the cluster of seven?” he glanced at Dean for confirmation before continuing, “The Chippewa people who used to reside here called that constellation “Hole in the Sky.” I’m sure the tale has changed since I last heard it, but they form the opening between this world and the next.” Cas quieted again for a moment. “Truly remarkable people, the ones who come up with the stories.” </p>
<p>
Dean let the quiet wash over them, not knowing if he should respond. He opted to shove another bite of his sandwich in his mouth instead as he sat next to the thousands of years old angel he considered his best friend. </p>
<p>

*	*	*	*	*	</p>
<p>

Dean slipped the ID back into its sleeve before he tossed it over to Cas. He looked about as far from a State Ranger as you could get, but Dean wasn’t about to tell him to change. Every time he saw that trench coat filled out instead of hidden in the back of his closet a thrill shot up Dean’s spine and he wasn’t about to give that up. </p>
<p>
The DNR station was right outside of town. There was a sheriff car outside, and an unlucky officer had been tasked with keeping the few families and reporters that has amassed away from the front door. The woman stopped them as they walked up, only sparing a glance at Dean’s badge before waving them inside. Inside the door a brunette stopped them again. </p>
<p>
“Hi, can I help you?” She looked them over. </p>
<p>
“Yea we need to see whoever’s in charge” Dean stated, pulling out his badge again and glancing at Cas to do the same. “State Rangers Bonham and Jones, we were sent from the LP to help out with the missing campers.” </p>
<p>
The girl nodded adamantly, “Oh that’s great yea we could use all the help we could get, come on this way.” She beckoned them forward through the office and knocked on the doorway into a windowed office room. “Sherriff? There are State Rangers here to see you.”</p>
<p>
A man in a brown trucker jacket came forward from around a table, “Sheriff Rick Johnson fellas, nice to see the State’s finally sent us some help up here.” He beckoned them towards the table where a map of the State Forest was spread across. “This is Deputy Barnett and State Ranger Carson. Right now we’re spread pretty thin between search teams and patrolling.” The map on the table covered between Michigan routes 26 and 38 and U.S. route 41. The areas that were residential were greyed out, so that the focus was only on the scattered land covered by the state forest area.  </p>
<p>
“These where the campers go missing from?” dean pointed at a couple of markers around the Twin Lakes. </p>
<p>
“Yea, we lost two doubles and a single camper over the past two days.” The sheriff looked up to the wall where a bulletin board was covered in photos. There were photos of the missing campers, three girls and two guys all about college age. From behind him, Cas moved up to the board where transcripts of the missing persons reports were tagged next to images taken of the empty campsites. </p>
<p>
Dean moved up next to him. The campsites had been trashed. Tents destroyed, one basically shredded. Sleeping bags were halfway outside of the openings, as if something had dragged the kids out. Dean shared a look with Cas. “Do you have any idea what could have done this?” Cas questioned as he turned back to the sheriff. “Any similar attacks or unusual wildlife sightings?” The Ranger shook his head. </p>
<p>
“I’ve been ranger of this county 20 years and I’ve never seen anything like this. Maybe a cougar or bear, but that doesn’t explain where the kids are now.” Cas nodded in response. </p>
<p>
“Got any search parties going out now?” Dean asked. </p>
<p>
“No,” the Sheriff responded, “we’re not letting any volunteers into the woods, too dangerous. But that means we only have our handful of rangers to search.” </p>
<p>
Dean glanced over at Cas. “Well, sounds like a job for us. Let’s go see what we can find.” </p>
<p>

*	*	*	*	*	</p>
<p>

The Impala was parked beside the lake 20 minutes later. Dean had driven an access road around to the back side, away from the main road and beach area. Cas had a map of the area laid out on the hood. With a red marker he’d snagged from the DNR desk, he was marking the location of the empty campsites. Dean walked around back and popped the trunk. </p>
<p>
“Think the grenade launcher would come in handy?” Dean asked as he picked it up out the trunk, aiming at a tree beside the Impala. </p>
<p>
A monotone “Dean” was all Cas’s reply, never looking up from the map in front of him. Dean threw the rest of the supplies into his duffel and shut the trunk, walking around front to look at Cas’s map. </p>
<p>
“You sure those were the right spots?”</p>
<p>
“Yes Dean my memory is impeccable.” </p>
<p>
“Yea yea ok.” Dean leaned over and looked closer at the map. “All on this side of the lake it looks like. Makes sense, more empty land back on this side.” He snatched the map off the hood as Cas put the marker away. “So if this is right,” which earned him an annoyed look from Cas, “our best bet should be over towards the southwest.” </p>
<p>
“So the direction that the rising smoke is in.” Dean looked at Cas, following his line of sight to the southwest, where true enough, a narrow line of smoke was rising through the trees. </p>
<p>
“Son of a bitch.” </p>
<p>
And so Cas and Dean found themselves pushing through the woods towards the smoke. </p>
<p>
“This is either one dumbass monster, or the college students are stupider than they looked.” They were hiking along a small stream which was nestled along a ledge. The woods were clear of underbrush here, so it didn’t take long to reach the spot the smoke should’ve been coming from. </p>
<p>
“Oh would you look at that,” Dean mumbled as they emerged from the tree line into a clearing where a group of four college-age kids were gathered around a tent and campfire. “Hey dumbasses,” he snarked, getting their attention, “the forest is closed for a reason.” </p>
<p>
“Hey man, we’re not causing any trouble, just give us a day or so to chill out.” One of the guys replied as he threw his arm around the blonde sitting on the log next to him. </p>
<p>
“It’s not safe for you to be out here.” The blonde balked and glanced at the rest of the group. Apparently Cas was more convincing than Dean was. Probably something to do with the “holier than thou” atmosphere he always gave off even though the stick had long been removed from his ass. </p>
<p>
“You can’t really be believing these guys right?” the original guy directed towards the group. </p>
<p>
“Robbie, all those campers did go missing” the blonde tentatively responded. </p>
<p>
“God Chloe you can’t actually believe that can you! I mean-“</p>
<p>
“You mean you’d rather end up wherever those other five missing people ended up! I told you this was a bad idea.” Now the scrawny guy jumped in even as the third boy sat unbothered.</p>
<p>
“Not you too Josh, come on Miles back me up here!” The other guy, apparently Miles, just threw his hands up in the universal ‘don’t get me involved’ gesture. “Come on guys,” Robbie said, looking between the other three, “you can’t seriously think-”</p>
<p>
“Alright you know what? I’m not listening to this.” Dean finally said. “We’re getting you four outta here whether you like it or not, so grab the essentials and let’s go.”</p>
<p>
Cas had turned to look around the tree line surrounding the clearing. “Man no way, this is my nice tent I’m not gonna just leave it” Robbie started.</p>
<p>
“Dean” Cas said at the same time, still looking around. </p>
<p>
That’s when the screaming started. </p>
<p>
Robbie promptly shut up. Chloe and Josh both jumped up, and even the previously bored Miles sat up in alarm. Dean pulled the gun out of his jeans and looked over at Cas. </p>
<p>
“Guys does that sound like Jenna to you?” Miles said as he started to get up. </p>
<p>
“Who’s Jenna?” Dean demanded as Miles lost the color in his face.</p>
<p>
“But we left Jenna back at school” Robbie said, looking thoroughly unconvinced himself. </p>
<p>
“Who the fuck is Jenna!” </p>
<p>
The blonde finally choked out a reply, “it’s Miles’ girlfriend.” </p>
<p>
Cas looked at Dean in alarm, dropping his angel blade as the voice changed. “Chole!” it yelled. Chloe stepped backwards tripping on the log she’d been sitting on and landing on the ground. </p>
<p>
“That’s.. that can’t be her.” </p>
<p>
“Chloe was that… was that your ex?” Robbie looked at Chloe who was pale on the ground. </p>
<p>
“Oh we are so screwed.” Dean said. “We gotta get you guys out of here.” </p>
<p>
“Dean what-“</p>
<p>
“Cas listen to what they’re saying, it’s copying voices. We’re in these woods with a damn wendigo.” He glanced around at the frazzled college students. “We gotta get them out of here, we can’t worry about ganking this thing when we’re worrying about them.” </p>
<p>
“Dean this is suicide.” </p>
<p>
<i>If only you knew</i> Dean thought. “We gotta try, I’m not going to sit here and wait for it.” </p>
<p>
As the screaming continued in intervals Dean passed a blade to each of the students. It wouldn’t help them much, but it might at least make them feel better. They took off back towards the impala, sticking close to the waterline where the ground was flat and mostly free of tree roots trying to trip you. Cas was up ahead beside the kids while dean brought up the rear to keep them covered. The woods were quiet except for their heavy breathing and footsteps. It was too quiet. 
“Cas!” echoed off the trees. Cas whipped his head around until his grey eyes found Dean. Dean who was definitely not yelling. Eyes wide, Cas scanned the trees. </p>
<p>
“CAS.” The scream was mangled, pained. Dean winced to hear it. Cas just watched Dean in alarm, seeming to need the visual sight of Dean’s mouth closed to convince him that he wasn’t the one doing the screaming. Dean could see the alarm that shot through Cas as the wendigo continued it’s torture. </p>
<p>
It only took a second of eye-contact for Dean to barge to the front of the group next to Cas. Meeting his alarmed stare, Dean tucked his knife away and took Cas’s hand. </p>
<p>
“Hey it’s ok, I’m ok.” Cas gave a sharp nod and turned to continue forward, hanging onto Dean’s hand like a lifeline as the screams continued. </p>
<p>
The worst part is that they were almost at the road when everything went wrong. They had moved away from the stream as they got closer. Running through the underbrush was hard for someone used to it. Robbie wasn’t so lucky, and he fell hard as his foot snagged on a root. Dean let go of Cas’s hand on instinct as he pushed back to get to the kid. </p>
<p>
He yanked Robbie up off the ground, the boy setting his weight equally on both feet. It was a good sign, if he was hurt, it was mild enough that his adrenaline was still covering it. As he registered that luck, his ears picked up the snap of a branch high behind him. Cas, hearing it too, snapped to look behind Dean and Robbie even as he led the other students out of the woods. </p>
<p>
Dean felt his body tense, adrenaline shooting through it at the instinctual knowledge that he was prey, and that the predator was about to strike. “Go go run!” hey yelled, pushing Robbie in front of him as they both broke out into a sprint. “Cas get them out of these woods!” </p>
<p>
Cas and the students broke out onto the road, free from the danger of the trees above. Robbie and Dean were close behind, Robbie a few steps ahead from that push earlier. Cas looked back to Dean and Robbie, and then his grey eyes went wide. </p>
<p>
It all happened at once. Cas’s mouth began to open in a yell as Robbie broke out of the tree line, and as Dean sensed more than heard the break of a branch directly above him. It was too late. Dean felt his feet life off the ground. 
The last thing he heard before the wendigo knocked him out against the tree branch was Cas’s yell ringing out. </p>
<p>
“Dean!”</p>
<p>

*	*	*	*	*	</p>
<p>

They were 4 hours from of Lawrence. Dean had woken with a start, yelling at Kari to send him back in. Kari quite snidely, responded that there were easier ways to die than “bringing a fucking Winchester down on my head for bleeding his brother dry in a motel room.” So here they were, forcing Dean to take a blood break as his body began to replenish what he’d given up. Dean had agreed to break only as long as it took to get back to Lawrence. Kari claimed he had a ‘spot’ they could crash, seeing as Dean wasn’t dumb enough to do it at the bunker. </p>
<p>
He was on edge. The adrenaline from the fight was just beginning to wear from his mind. A glance in the rearview showed that the djinn was passed out. Dean reached across the front seat, opening the glovebox and fumbling around for a tape. Grabbing nothing in particular, he threw one into the cassette deck. Zeppelin poured out through the speaker as the opening drums of <i>When the Levee Breaks<i> began to play. </i></i></p>
<p>Dean drove on the empty road, the summer sun rising to his right as the majority of the city continued to sleep. Dean glanced at his phone. Still no messages. He had no idea when Sam would be back, but Dean figured that the farther away the better for what he was up to. </p>
<p><i>If it keeps on raining, levee’s goin’ to break</i>.</p>
<p>He glanced east at the sunrise. The pink was receding as the sun rose off the horizon, causing the blue sky all around it to brighten in the most vibrant way.</p>
<p>
<i>If it keeps on raining, levee’s goin’ to break</i>.</p>
<p>

Dean felt his stomach drop as his mouth fell open ever the slightest.</p>
<p>
 
<i>When the levee breaks I’ll have no place to stay</i>.</p>
<p>
  
Cas’s eyes aren’t grey.
</p>
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